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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28066014">Who are you when I'm not looking?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajorTrouble/pseuds/MajorTrouble'>MajorTrouble</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fae, Fae &amp; Fairies, Fae Magic, Fae!Jaskier, Gen, Someone's keeping secrets, it's not MCD if no one actually dies right?, rumours of my death have been greatly exaggerated, wolves are not a metaphor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:54:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,516</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28066014</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajorTrouble/pseuds/MajorTrouble</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Three weeks ago he’d begun to feel the changing of the seasons. The slight nip in the air had turned into a lingering chill. It seeped into the bones. Frosted the tips of his hair and redden exposed cheeks not covered by his bedroll. </p>
<p>It was time to say goodbye to his Witcher and go home for the Winter.</p>
<p>Or: Sometimes, it's not the best idea to follow your instincts. It may just get you into a situation you didn't want to be in and will never get out of.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eskel &amp; Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>101</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>The Witcher Flash Fic Challenge #012</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Who are you when I'm not looking?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Started writing this, had about 15 billion other ideas, bon appetit.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Three weeks ago he’d begun to feel the changing of the seasons. The slight nip in the air had turned into a lingering chill. It seeped into the bones. Frosted the tips of his hair and redden exposed cheeks not covered by his bedroll. </p>
<p>It was time to say goodbye to his Witcher and go home for the Winter. </p>
<p>Jaskier played his last song on his last night in the rowdy tavern, winking at the cheerful patrons as he danced around the tables. They cheered as he struck the final chord, clapping and tossing coins into the lute case propped open in front of him. He thanked them as he gathered up his spoils and packed away his instrument. Eyes bright and face red from exertion, he nearly bounced as he made his way over to the brooding figure in the corner. </p>
<p>Throwing himself into the seat across from the Witcher, Jaskier took a long swig from the mug Eskel nudged towards him before speaking. “That was fantastic! Dare I say one of my best performances yet?” He paused to take another sip as Eskel snorted. “What? I think I have enough to get a coach from here to Oxenfurt instead of having to walk most of the way.” </p>
<p>“You think every performance is your best one,” Eskel chided softly. “Do you ever have a bad one?”</p>
<p>Jaskier scrunched up his face in thought for a moment, considering. He had actually had a number of bad - terrible - performances in the past, but none that he was willing to tell Eskel about. Instead he settled for, “Well I suppose everyone has an off day. I <em>may</em> have gotten kicked out of a tavern or two in my early years when I wasn’t quite as, ah, well-rehearsed as I am now.”</p>
<p>“I see,” Eskel nodded. “So the cabbages thrown at you in that village a few days ago - “</p>
<p>“That was clearly a conflict of interests!” He waved off the clearly amused Witcher. “No one can account for taste.”</p>
<p>“Everyone’s a critic?”</p>
<p>Jaskier nodded sagely. “Exactly.”</p>
<p>The two spent their last night in companionable conversation and drinks, retiring to bed in the small hours to rise again at first light. They packed up, lingering a little in each other’s presence before reluctantly parting ways, each heading to their own Winter hideaway. </p>
<p>Jaskier knew that Eskel went to Kaer Morhen, up in the Blue Mountains, every year to spend the coldest months with his brothers-in-arms. He’d travelled with the Witcher for a few years now, after being unceremoniously cast aside by Geralt after the dragon hunt. Neither spoke much of the other Witcher, and Jaskier liked to keep it that way. </p>
<p>Besides, there were many things neither of the Witchers knew. They weren’t the only ones good at keeping secrets. </p>
<p>He stood at the edge of the ice-covered meadow, sharp eyes picking out the delicate sculptures of grasses and leaves frozen in time and space. The sun was just past its zenith, though dark storm clouds had started to roll in and block its light completely. Jaskier sighed in contentment. </p>
<p>It was almost time. </p>
<p>His fingertips prickled and buzzed. The air around him seemed to grow even colder and his breath puffed out in clouds of white vapour. Ice crystals formed in his hair, crackling as he turned his head. Putting his fingers to the corners of his lips, he blew three sharp, clear notes, listening as they echoed and faded across the cold white field. </p>
<p>Everything was still for several long heartbeats before movement caught his eye. Trotting purposefully across the meadow, hooves throwing up clots of snow and ice, came a chestnut mare. Her coat was in stark contrast to the landscape around her, making her stand out almost like an apparition. Behind her, much to Jaskier’s surprise, followed a black colt, snorting and throwing his head at the snow flying in the air from his mother’s hooves. </p>
<p>When the mare came to a stop in front of Jaskier, blowing warm air in his face, he rubbed his hands over her muzzle in greeting. </p>
<p>“Hello my lovely girl, I’ve missed you. But I see you’ve not been lonely without me!” Carefully, Jaskier moved towards the colt where he was pressed to his mother’s side. He held his hand out, palm flat, giving the creature opportunity to lip at his skin before allowing Jaskier to reach up and scratch behind the colt’s ears. “Ah, gorgeous thing. Just like your mum.” </p>
<p>Jaskier stepped back, gripping the mare at the top of her spine and in one swift, uncannily graceful movement, pulling himself up on her bare back. “Take me home, my dear. I know mother is waiting. Let’s not keep her.” </p>
<p>The mare snorted before turning and heading back across the field, melting into the forest on the other side.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Eskel watched the trio as they disappeared into the treeline. He leaned back against the trunk of the tree, his mind trying desperately to sort out what he’d just witnessed. </p>
<p>After leaving the bard on the road, heading North towards the Blue Mountains, Eskel had almost immediately begun to miss the man. He shrugged it off, as he’d done the past few years. It wasn’t a new sensation, and when they met up in the Spring, he’d be all the happier to see him. But then, somewhere in the middle of the first week, he’d begun to feel a strange pull, a prickly sensation in the back of his mind. It was telling him that something was wrong, something was <em>very</em> wrong and Jaskier was in trouble. </p>
<p>Not one to ignore his gut feelings, Eskel had turned Scorpion around and headed back the way he’d come, back towards Oxenfurt. The niggling feeling pulled him off the usual path though and before long he’d picked up the scent of the bard, the familiar combination of varnished wood and chamomile overlaid with something else. It was vaguely familiar, like a half-remembered dream, and twined around the bard’s usual scent like it belonged there. It was the crisp cold smell of the promise of snow mixed with the sharpness of crushed holly berries. It had led him through a densely wooded copse until he’d just been able to make out Jaskier at the edge of the meadow. </p>
<p>The meadow that was covered in a thick layer of thick snow. It was as if someone had drawn a line in the earth and on one side it was the dead of Winter and on the other, where Eskel was standing, hidden amongst the trees, it was still just on the cusp. Jaskier didn’t appear disturbed by any of this. In fact, he was smiling. Looking out over the field towards the trees on the far side, the bard seemed content and at peace. </p>
<p>Eskel frowned. Maybe he’d been wrong. But the sense of danger still remained, like an itch just under his skin. As he was about to break cover and call out to Jaskier, the other man raised his fingers to his lips and blew three times, the sound echoing around them. Across the field came two horses, trotting at a brisk pace, no tack in sight. He watched as Jaskier spoke to the mare like she was an old friend before greeting the foal at her side. </p>
<p>As Jaskier quickly mounted up, Eskel sucked in a breath at the almost unnatural grace and dexterity his friend displayed. There was something going on here that he couldn’t understand, and he still wasn’t certain the bard wasn’t in danger. </p>
<p>Now, watching the horses pass through the treeline, Eskel worried at his scarred lip for a moment before making the decision to follow. He backtracked through the woods to fetch Scorpion, but was startled to see two tall figures waiting for him.</p>
<p>They were both dressed in hunting leathers, bows strapped to their backs and long knives at their hips. One had long black hair tied up in intricate braids and wrapped into a knot on top of their head. The other had short-cropped blond hair that flowed in waves. Unnaturally bright blue eyes looked out at him from both faces. </p>
<p>“Witcher,” the black-haired one drawled, dragging out the syllables of his title. “Are you lost, Witcher?” They stalked towards him slowly, smiling wide enough to show all their overly sharp teeth. </p>
<p>“Ya, Witcher. You lost?” echoed the other. They cocked their head to the side, studying him. </p>
<p>Eskel’s mind raced as he tried to figure out what he was being faced with. He took in the sharp teeth, pointed ears and ethereal grace and beauty and suddenly felt fear pushing itself up behind his eyes and trying to stopper his throat. </p>
<p>Fae. These creatures were Fae. And if he didn’t tread very carefully, he was as good as dead. </p>
<p>They looked at him expectantly. He was at a loss for words. What did they want him to tell them? That he was actually lost? That he had no idea why he was here? That he’d just watched someone he thought was his friend, that he thought he knew everything about, do something completely without explanation?</p>
<p>“I was looking for my friend,” he hedged. “I had a premonition of danger, and I was looking to warn them.”</p>
<p>The Fae glanced at each other for a moment before looking back at him.</p>
<p>“And who might this friend be? Perhaps we can help you find your wayward companion,” the blond-haired one offered. </p>
<p>
  <em>Oh fuck. No. I can’t actually tell them it was Jaskier, can I? Fae value honesty, but they are tricky, they will twist your words. And if they know your true name, they can bind you. But, Jaskier isn’t his real name. Even I know that. Fuck! If only I had more time…</em>
</p>
<p>“He’s a bard. A bard of some renown, maybe even known to such as you,” Eskel tried. If he could get away with not saying too much, he might be able to get out of this. </p>
<p>The Fae seemed to consider his words as they nodded along. </p>
<p>“Enough!” came a voice from behind him and Eskel whipped around. To his mounting horror, another unnaturally beautiful, elegant Fae stood before him. She was all sharp features from her cheekbones to her fingernails. Chestnut brown hair cascaded over the shoulders of her dark brown leathers. She was flanked by two more Fae, each with bows drawn and pointed at him. “He was following the Prince. Stalking him through the woods on the borders of our land.” Her piercing grey eyes caught his amber ones and he fought the urge to look away. “Explain your purpose or we will cut you down.”</p>
<p>Internally, Eskel sighed. “I am not lying - I had a premonition of danger for my friend. I followed him here.”</p>
<p>She made an undignified sound, cutting her hand through the air. “There are no friends here, Witcher. You were following our Prince. Why?”</p>
<p>If he ever got out of this, Eskel was going to have serious words with Jaskier about keeping secrets. </p>
<p>“Because he’s my friend.” When the Fae made another disbelieving sound he held up his hand placatingly. “I know him as Jaskier the bard.”</p>
<p>“Captain, he speaks the truth,” one of the Fae behind Eskel said quietly. </p>
<p>The Captain grimaced slightly before her features cleared and she tilted her head to the side. “So, you are his guard dog then? You are returning to your master?”</p>
<p>Eskel hesitated. What was he supposed to say to that? “That’s not exactly - “</p>
<p>“Do you protect the Prince or not, Witcher?” the Captain demanded to the sound of bow strings being tightened further. </p>
<p>Eskel panicked. “Yes.”</p>
<p>The Captain smiled. “Good.” She made a complicated gesture with one hand and Eskel suddenly felt lightheaded. He tried to take a step forward and instead pitched onto the ground face first. </p>
<p>The last thing he heard before the world faded away was the Captain’s voice. “Take him to cages. We’ll deal with him there.”</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Jaskier hated politics. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. He loved the gossip and intrigue and rivalries that went on behind the scenes. He hated the actual getting down to business that was politics itself. </p>
<p>He’d been stuck in the council meeting for what seemed like ages before the Captain of the border guards was allowed an audience. Captain Elida bowed before Queen Esme and the Prince before delivering her report. It was the usual scouting information, how far the humans had gotten before being turned back, what parts of the veil needed to be reinforced now that Winter was coming, but the last part of her report was directed at Jaskier.</p>
<p>“My Prince. We have picked up your guard, wandering the edge of the forest where you entered. It seemed he was coming to warn you of danger. I have taken the liberty of sequestering him in the cages.”</p>
<p>Jaskier looked to his mother before speaking. She seemed intrigued, but not angry, a very good sign. “Have you now? How interesting. I don’t remember bringing a guard from the mortal realms. I would be most interested to know who it is.” He had a suspicion, one that was knotting his stomach, but he kept his voice light and amused. </p>
<p>“A Witcher, your grace,” the Captain confirmed. </p>
<p>“A Witcher,” the Queen repeated, eyebrows raising in surprise. “Like the ones in your songs? How novel. What a perfect guard for my son to have here. Bring him at once.”</p>
<p>Captain Elida bowed again before nodding to two of her own guards, as if anticipating the Queen’s request. The doors to one side of the chamber opened to reveal a large cage. It was dragged in across the smooth stone floors and placed before the thrones. Inside was Eskel, laying on his side, unconscious. </p>
<p>Jaskier wanted to rush forward, down the stairs leading up to his throne and throw himself at the bars just to touch Eskel, to see if he was hurt. He knew better, of course. Any outward showing of emotion, of favour, and he’d risk Eskel’s life and freedom. If he showed he cared about the Witcher in the cage, then that was leverage against him.</p>
<p>Esme looked over at him, her eyes narrowing. “Do you know this Witcher?” she asked shrewdly. </p>
<p>“Yes, of course. He’s one of the Wolf Witchers. Eskel, I believe,” Jaskier answered, feigning a careful mix between fascination and boredom. “You can tell by the wolf’s head medallion on his chest, and those ghastly scars on his face.”</p>
<p>Esme considered this as she looked down at the still form. She nodded to herself and Jaskier suddenly felt the bottom drop out of his stomach as she stood. The Queen walked slowly, carefully, down the stairs of her dais to where the cage sat. She tapped the top of it and the bars dissolved around the Witcher, much to the consternation of the Captain and several others in the Court.</p>
<p>“Your majesty - “ Elida started but held her tongue at the Queen’s raised hand. She crouched down and reached out to touch a fingertip to Eskel’s forehead and the Witcher jerked awake, though he didn’t move from his prone position.</p>
<p>“Ah, there you are, Witcher. I’ve heard you would guard my son. Came to warn him of a danger from the mortal realm. I commend you on your loyalty.” She stood slowly, looking around the room, and then down at the Witcher at her feet. “I reward loyalty.” She pointed at the Witcher again and with a grunt his body relaxed and he rolled to his feet. </p>
<p>Eskel bowed to the Queen and then, after a brief hesitation, to Jaskier as well. Jaskier kept his outward appearance amused as he quirked an eyebrow, but inside he was panicking. Esme was about to do something, he could smell it as she gathered her power around her. Everything in him wanted to scream at Eskel to run, but that wouldn’t do him any good either. </p>
<p>There was nowhere to run to in the Faewilde.</p>
<p>“I reward loyalty,” Queen Esme said, louder, addressing the entire court. “And so I bestow on Witcher Eskel, the honour of Guard, protector of my son, no matter where he wanders.” She cupped Eskel’s cheek and the shimmer of her magic outlined his entire body from head to toe. It seeped into every pore, filling him with a golden glow. </p>
<p>Where before a Witcher had stood, now there was an enormous black wolf. Scars ripped a jagged line down one side of its muzzle, pulling its lip up in a permanent snarl. Amber eyes looked up to meet Jaskier’s blue ones and for the first time in his long life, the Fae Prince felt despair.</p>
<p>He smiled at his mother, clapping his hands in what he hoped was delight as he came to stand beside her. “I thank-you for this gift, mother. I will treasure it, and use it wisely.” </p>
<p>The Queen’s smile was sharp. “I don’t doubt it, my son.”</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Jaskier couldn’t say what happened in the audience chamber for the rest of the day. Esme made Eskel come lay at Jaskier’s feet for the remainder of the session and Jaskier was both horrified and grateful that the Witcher was obedient. </p>
<p>Much later, he managed to whisk them both off to his private rooms where he knew no one would be able to overheard them, sat down on the floor in front of the Witcher-turned-wolf, and tried not to burst into tears. </p>
<p>For his part, Eskel watched him with something akin to anger. And Jaskier didn’t begrudge him that. He was going to have to explain something very serious and very terrible.</p>
<p>Jaskier sighed, rubbing his hands over his face several times before looking up and glaring at Eskel. “You’re an idiot, first and foremost, for following me. I’ve no idea why you thought that was a good idea, and now you won’t ever be able to tell me.” </p>
<p>Eskel huffed at him, looking, for all the world, a bit exasperated. </p>
<p>“Oh, don’t give me that. We have very strict rules. If I ever told anyone about my true nature outside the bounds of this realm, it’s a death sentence. Whether by human hands or my own kin.” He paused, frowning. “I need you to know that I never intended to deceive anyone. But I have the feeling that someone lured you here for the express purpose of getting you killed. This - “ he gestured at Eskel “ - is not ideal, but… “ he trailed off, not entirely sure how to explain to Eskel that being turned into a wolf might not be a better option than death.</p>
<p>Finally, he looked the wolf in the eye and steeled himself. “This isn’t reversible. You are bound to me, and to the Faewilde. No Fae, no mage, no elaborate ritual will change you back, Eskel. I’m sorry.” He looked down at his hands. “You can go with me to the mortal realms, back to the continent, but only with me. The magic my mother has used ties us together. If you leave my side - unless I ask you to - if you try to run away, you’ll die.” </p>
<p>When he looked up again, Eskel was staring into the middle distance, seeming at a loss. Slowly, he folded in on himself, laying down on the floor, nudging his head into Jaskier’s lap and whining. The Prince ran his fingers through the wolf's thick fur, trying to soothe him as he shook. </p>
<p>That was one thing wolves and Witchers had in common: neither could cry.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>The Winter passed as it always did  - slowly, then all at once. As Spring nudged its way into the air, spreading the scents of flowers and warm winds, Jaskier got ready to leave. It was a more somber affair than any other year. He wasn’t in a hurry to meet up with his travelling companion this time. </p>
<p>Eskel, to his own surprise, had quickly gotten used to his new form. His inability to wield swords or move on two legs was now mitigated by powerful claws and teeth and a seeming never-ending amount of energy. When Jaskier could get away from the palace, he hunted with Eskel in the vast, snow covered forest of the Faewilde. It was much like a reflection of the Continents and housed the same types of creatures, but in more abundance. </p>
<p>As the two stepped across the divide between the Winter realm and the mortal realm, Jaskier sighed, placing a hand on Eskel’s shoulder. </p>
<p>“Your brothers will have missed you this Winter. We should go reassure them first,as best we can,” he said softly. When Eskel tensed up and made a noise of inquiry, he smiled. “I think they’ll just be happy you’re alive, whatever form you’re in.”</p>
<p>The wolf snorted before leading the way, loping off into the forest ahead of them. Jaskier sighed again before mounting up on Scorpion and following at a more leisurely pace. </p>
<p>In his head his ballad for the curse of the black wolf of Kaer Morhen was nearly complete.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank-you for reading!! Kudos and comments keep me writing &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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